<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>that memory begin anew by Repose</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29186331">that memory begin anew</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Repose/pseuds/Repose'>Repose</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Ori and the Blind Forest, Ori and the Will of the Wisps</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bittersweet, Gen, gah ten months later and replaing this game made me cry once more, short and sweet, spoilers for will of the wisps, this has like every game detail i can remember referenced at some point in less than 1k words, what i hope happens following the end of the game</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 13:54:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>885</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29186331</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Repose/pseuds/Repose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The land heals, and remembers.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>that memory begin anew</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>Bah!</em> says the feathered wanderer. <em>These young ones do not know the forest. Not as we did</em>.</p>
<p>Then again, the feathered wanderer has always had something to complain about, something or other. He is not like Grom, ever-smiling, cheery even after a long day of toil, restoring the spires of Gerora. He is not like Opher, who tells stories in the best of voices after a week’s journey to the treasures of the Wellspring. He is not like Twillen, who remembers their guardian’s name perhaps best of all.</p>
<p>When the young Moki can convince Tokk to speak, that is what he speaks of. Of the forest as it once was; the forest, when it was known as Ori.</p>
<p>The young Moki did not meet the spirit Ori when they first came to Niwen. The young Moki know Ori only as the great tree. But sometimes, when they can be convinced – Tokk and Lupo, Grom and Tuley, Twillen and Opher – the older ones will speak of them. They will speak of the time the little spirit fell from the sky and fought off the fearsome creature Shriek with nothing but their light.</p>
<p>And what a funny tale it is! Because it cannot be true, the Moki know. There are new spirits, now, and they are all so little, just as the Moki are. Not a single one of them could have fought off a stone-wing on their own!</p>
<p>Even the new spirits cannot quite bring themselves to believe, even as the Spirit Oak teaches them to jump and heal and fight as Ori once did. One like them, saving the entire forest? It is a tale, but one for fairies – one of things that do not exist.</p>
<p>Out of those in the Glades it is Naru, and Gumo, and Ku, who could speak most of the spirit they called Ori. But Naru will only smile at the mention of her child, and Gumo will speak only of their antics, and Ku of the time they spent traversing Niwen to restore her and her wing to life, with a smile that is sometimes sad, and sometimes soft.</p>
<p>Oftentimes when evening falls, the three-that-were-once-four will sit by the growing Spirit Oak. Even as the Spirit Oak flowers and towers over even the Gorlek Grom, no longer a fragile sapling, still the three from their sister-land eat the day’s last meal by its trunk.</p>
<p>The older Moki do their best to take care of those three, who hurt the most with the transformation of their guardian to the Spirit Oak. The stories the older Moki tell are not of the battles of Mora and Kwolok, but of a lost acorn, of an old guardian’s amulet, and a warm bowl of soup on a cold winter’s day. Those are the stories the three-who-mourn love most.</p>
<p>
  <em>We Moki have always wandered, but it was Ori who helped us – fishing twine! firefly cage! – wander even further than before.</em>
</p>
<p>Sometimes the wanderers, Tokk and Lupo and the Moki with the adventurer’s pack, will speak of the forest as it once was. It seems incredible, to the young ones – Moki and spirit alike – that the forest could ever be as they describe. They cannot believe that the Spirit Willow could have toppled as the guardian called Ori fought against the creature Shriek, because the Spirit Oak stands now so tall. They cannot believe that once the woods to the east were ever creeping stone, because the only stone now found in that place makes up the walls smoothed over by scrambling Moki paw. Of course the darkness could not hurt them, because the darkness has nothing to hide! When the spiders speak of their home the young Moki laugh and bring them into the light and build canopies out of leaves and umbrellas out of hats and remind the spiderlings how to play.</p>
<p>The rest of the Moki believe, however. The rest of the Moki remember. They had a guardian once named Kwolok, both great and kind; now they have a guardian named Ori, both small and kind. It is the Moki, then, who carry the torch of being just the same: <em>so small! so kind!</em></p>
<hr/>
<p>One day there is a great storm, a blizzard of hail and ice that sweeps through the land, smashing mountain peaks and icing the depths. They watch in fear as the storm approaches the Glades, knowing that it will be the end of their homes and their shelter and their Ore-wrought things. For the first time, the little ones do not see Grom smile.</p>
<p>But just before the gray cloud’s shadow reaches the Glades, the Spirit Oak glows.</p>
<p>Wisps of blue and white sear across the sky, burning through the worst of the clouds. When the hail falls it is as a spring drizzle, and with every raindrop Tuley’s plants turn blooming faces toward the sky.</p>
<p>After that, the Moki believe.</p>
<p>Around their campfires, as the ones who call the Glades home explore the treasures of Niwen that were so nearly lost, they tell their stories of the spirit named Ori. The Moki – young and old – believe. The Moki, young and old, remember.</p>
<p><em>We know the forest</em>, they say, <em>as it was before Ori – so lonely! so brave! – saved us from the stone-wing. </em></p>
<p>
  <em>And we will not forget. </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>